Power vs. Unconditional Love February 21, 2005
This morning it came to me, unconditional love is true power. To be loved is the greatest and most important gift we can receive, and so it is also the most important one we can give. It is the only thing that gives us true power. Control, often confused with power, is all about fear. Love opens our hearts and minds to that which can reveal all.
This morning I had many thoughts running through my mind which I felt I should write down. This comes from two dreams I had on the 14th of this month. The dreams were very disturbing and I did not write them down at the time because I didn’t think I would ever forget them. I could not even talk to Patrick about them despite his efforts to discuss what happened.
I spent the whole week allowing the doubts and fears and crazy thoughts to run free. At the same time I was struggling to remember that most importantly I am loved, no matter how lost I was feeling from the effect of the dreams. I decided to write them down in an attempt to help me release my attachment.
The first one was a memory of the room in which I was sometimes kept; the one without windows, no colour and only a bed for furniture. This upset me a great deal, bringing back the fear and bad feelings associated with time spent there. Even though it was just a short moment and the only thing I saw, it brought back a lifetime of fear. It felt as though I had been brought back to see the room as an adult, confirming it really did exist.
A week later I am still very emotional recalling it. I seem to remember hearing two men talking about me. One asked how they were going to control me this time. The other man responded with, “The last time we had to kill her parents in front of her, but she’s not a little girl any more.” I did not see the men….was this my imagination? Was this present day? What would they do to me now?
The second dream had to do with my daughter, Rheann, she was crying and yelling. I could not remember what she was saying only moments after I woke up. I’m not even sure who she was upset with, if it was me or not, but it bothered me a lot the rest of the day.
I began to wonder over the last week just how much could I endure being taken away from me. Would they hurt my children or my husband? If they did indeed kill my parents, how much farther would they go, and more importantly why do they wish to hurt me?
This is when I realized it was not a game, and it was time to take it seriously. Each day this past week has been like a layer being pulled back to reveal how bad the scars are and the truth is. I really do not know how much more I can handle. I have only begun to realize just how thick the walls are around this pain.
I understand now why I did not want to talk about this or even write it down. Somehow it makes it seem more real and I just feel like hiding again. Just who am I?
Who were my parents and why did I have to be taken from them? So many questions and no one to get answers from.
I understand I have been locked in a prison, fear and guilt my prison bars. I wonder how many people have died or been hurt because of me. These dreams bring back the feelings of guilt that I am somehow responsible for all the terrible things that have happened. How can anyone understand and why would they want to? In so many ways I am alone and always will be. But I also realize I must be content with every moment that brings me a smile or relief from the pain. Each moment I feel complete joy is a treasure no one can take away.
There is a strong need in me to share these good moments, to make them grow so everyone can see how precious they are. If only people could understand just how dark it would be without them. Young as I was, while in that room I must have hung on to every happy moment I could ever remember to keep the darkness at bay.
The words in a song, the colours in a painting, the flowing lines of a beautiful dress, wind blowing into sails, a summer breeze lifting your hair, gentle as a kiss, a child’s small hand in yours, a baby’s laughter, the first warm spring day, a birds song. The list is endless.
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